Too bad the old man simply wagged a finger. "One hundred thousand."
Wang Meng and the Little Fatty were both stunned. One hundred thousand???
'This really is a rip-off joint!'
"A rip-off! This is a total rip-off! Why don't you just go rob people!?" the Little Fatty shouted, leaping to his feet. This was a complete insult to his intelligence.
The old man pointed his tobacco pipe toward the ceiling... The sign outside read Sword Tomb, but inside, there was indeed another plaque. On it were two large, black words: Black Shop.
Wang Meng gave a wry smile. 'The old man's just messing with us.' If he didn't want to sell, there was nothing they could do about it.
"Sir, do you have anything a little cheaper?" Wang Meng asked instinctively.
The old man slowly stood up, sizing up the Little Fatty and Wang Meng. "This Little Fatty's talent is barely passable. Natural Fourth Layer, potential as a Bow Cultivator. It's a shame a Bow Cultivator this fat has no future. As for you," he said, turning to Wang Meng, "you're very average. You're not really suited to be a Cultivator, and choosing to be a Sword Cultivator was an even bigger mistake."
Zhang Xiaojiang's face instantly flushed red. He could take insults, but he wouldn't stand for someone bad-mouthing Wang Meng. "Hey, old man, are you looking for a fight? Watch your mouth! My Brother Meng is a new disciple hand-picked by a Sword Sect Elder!"
The old man seemed surprised for a moment, but then he just sighed. Turning away, he muttered, "So the Sword Sect has gone rotten too."
'How dare this old man be so arrogant in front of the Thunderlight Dual Dominators!' the Little Fatty fumed.
"Forget it, let's just go." Though angry, Wang Meng wasn't about to get into it with an old man. Besides, after the Holy Hall's test, he knew his talent really wasn't anything special. The man was just telling the truth.
But that only made Wang Meng more defiant. The more people told him he couldn't do it, the more he wanted to prove them wrong. 'If you spend your life listening to what others say, what's the point of even living!?'
Once outside, the Little Fatty spent three minutes holding in a foul fart, unleashing his "poison gas attack." 'Damn that pretentious, rip-off shop,' he thought, 'I hope it goes out of business soon.'
It had to be said, the Little Fatty knew how to hold a grudge.
After that whole ordeal, Wang Meng lost all interest in buying a weapon. They decided to check out the Messenger market instead. All sorts of Little Demons were on display, a dazzling array. Wang Meng wasn't particularly interested in spending money on something so frivolous, but he did need a convenient way to communicate.
"Hey, young man! How about a Tiger Demon? Look at these teeth! Its growth potential is extremely high!"
Honestly, the selection was dazzling. Demon Beasts were ferocious creatures that lived in the Small Thousand Worlds. Like Cultivators, they could absorb the Elemental Qi between heaven and earth, and some were even more powerful than Cultivators.
The weaker ones could be tamed directly and were collectively known as Little Demons. They could serve as Messengers, mounts, or even combat partners.
Powerful Demon Beasts, on the other hand, were extremely difficult to tame. They would only follow a Cultivator with whom they shared a bond of fate, and once they did, they would never betray them. These were known as Spirit Beasts. Spirit Beasts were far more reliable than people, but finding one was a matter of pure, unplannable luck.
Even a slightly better Little Demon had a price tag beyond what most people could afford. Wang Meng had his own two feet and didn't want to waste money on a mount. He just wanted to pick a Messenger, which made things much simpler. The most common type was the Sparrow Demon, the equivalent of a common sparrow in the Demon Race. The moment the shopkeeper heard Wang Meng wanted a Sparrow Demon, the blazing passion in his eyes died down. 'There's no money to be made in those.'
"Go ahead and look for yourselves. This whole enclosure is full of them. Fifty coins apiece. And let me be clear, all sales are final."
The shopkeeper led the pair to a large nesting area where dozens of little Sparrow Demons chirped. He then bustled off to help other customers.
For Wang Meng, an easy-to-raise little Sparrow Demon was perfect. Inside, there were birds of every color and variety; the sight was truly dazzling. However, one Sparrow Demon in the corner of the enclosure caught Wang Meng's eye.
"That red one looks good," Wang Meng said, pointing to the corner.
"Brother Meng, that's where you're wrong. With Sparrow Demons, the fancier and brighter the colors, the better. This one's all listless and droopy, with no sheen to its feathers at all. It was probably injured during capture. It'll be hard to raise. Forget it."
Wang Meng stared at the little red Sparrow Demon. The little creature seemed to sense the stranger's attention and its small eyes flicked over to meet Wang Meng's gaze. Though it looked weak, its eyes were very bright.
"I'll take that one!"
Hearing this, the shopkeeper came over. Seeing that Wang Meng wanted the damaged one, he said, "Don't say I didn't warn you. This one's a bit injured. Eight discount. And no returns, dead or alive."
"Deal!" Wang Meng agreed readily.
The little Sparrow Demon was placed in Wang Meng's hand. It didn't struggle. Wang Meng liked its eyes. Just like him, it was injured and in a strange environment, but it didn't seem scared in the slightest. Wang Meng was a man who lived by his intuition.
The shopkeeper couldn't wait to see them go. Forty coins was still forty coins. In truth, he had no idea when that injured little Sparrow Demon had even shown up in his stock.
But as the little red Sparrow Demon left, the other Sparrow Demons in the cage suddenly burst into activity, chirping nonstop as if they had just seen off something terrifying.
"Brother Meng, why'd you buy that thing? Ugh, how are you supposed to pick up chicks with that? Tell you what, I'll make a huge sacrifice and let you have Qiuqiu!"
Wang Meng shook his head. "No thanks. You two are a perfect match." Though the little Sparrow Demon on Wang Meng's shoulder was listless, it actually shot the Little Fatty a look of disdain upon hearing his contemptuous words.
Wang Meng scratched the little fire-red sparrow's chin. "This little guy's got a personality. It's not too happy with you."
"Haha, it must have picked up some of your attitude, Brother Meng. You should give it a name."
Wang Meng mulled it over. "How about Little Red?" The red Sparrow Demon on his shoulder rolled its eyes.
The Little Fatty stumbled, nearly falling over. "Bro! My dearest bro! Could you please be a little more creative? If we show up at the Holy Hall with that name, how are we supposed to keep our reputation? It doesn't matter if our auras are a little weak; we have to make up for it with an awesome name!"
The Little Fatty clenched his fist. "How about we call it... Overlord?"
The little Sparrow Demon closed its eyes as if resigning itself to its fate. 'So I've ended up with a pair of idiots.'
"Too tacky. How about Fifty Coins? Simple and clear! Pure perfection!" Wang Meng said.
"It only cost forty coins. Why don't we call it Eight Discount? That's pretty unique, huh?" The Little Fatty was always good with the small details.
"Excellent! We'll call it Eight Discount. Not bad, Little Fatty! Your IQ has gone up. That's deep!"
"Haha, it's all thanks to your guidance, Brother Meng!"
And just like that, the little Sparrow Demon's name was set as "Eight Discount." It was certainly direct and to the point.
Low-level Little Demons like the Sparrow Demon were the most common kind. They were true Messengers, unable to carry a rider, but they solved the problem of communication. Wang Meng didn't really care about such things. He wasn't going to the Holy Hall to show off; he genuinely wanted to learn how to cultivate.
It wasn't a perfect day, but they had at least gotten something out of it, and both of them were happy.
After a day of exploring and learning a few things, the two had a hearty meal. Then, the Little Fatty went off to play with his Qiuqiu. He called it "nurturing their bond," but he was really just going off to chase girls. Waving his new flag as a Holy Hall Bow Cultivator, he hoped that Hu Jing, who had always rejected him, might finally have a change of heart.
Wang Meng, meanwhile, focused wholeheartedly on practicing his Nourishing Essence Technique. He threw punch after punch. This was the foundation, and it required diligent, arduous practice. Deep down, Wang Meng felt that Elder Big Beard had believed in him, which meant he couldn't afford to slack off.
Eight Discount stood listlessly to one side, its little eyes holding a surprisingly human-like expression, as if it didn't know whether to laugh or cry at Wang Meng's training method.
Wang Meng, however, was practicing with great vigor, his grunts and shouts echoing continuously.
He practiced until he was drenched in sweat, feeling thoroughly refreshed. He suddenly noticed Eight Discount peering at him with its little eyes. Wang Meng laughed. "Eight Discount, judging by that look, you must really admire your master, huh? You may not look like much, but your eyes are just like mine. Full of spirit."